


Getting off on good behaviour

by LewdCookies



Series: Shadowrun: Vladivostok [1]
Category: Shadowrun
Genre: Attention focusing belts, Blow Jobs, Bodysuit, Bondage, Clothed Sex, Contains improbable & fetish-pandering pornography, Cunnilingus, Cyberpunk, Doggy Style, F/M, Femdom, Fuck the Police, Handcuffs, I fucked the law and I won, Law Enforcement, Oral Sex, Police Uniforms, Porn With Plot, Porn with a storyline, Restraints, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Women in Uniform, mild sexual coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 19:08:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19447735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LewdCookies/pseuds/LewdCookies
Summary: Maro runs out of road and then into the police.





	Getting off on good behaviour

A chorus of angry car horns followed his wake as he weaved through the night traffic at high speeds. The sirens of the police motorcycle following closely after him layered its own shrill tone above that. Glancing at the rearview mirror, he frowned at seeing the motorcycle still doggedly following after him and pressed down on the accelerator.

When he heard the sirens in the distance Maro knew the evening had taken a turn for the worse. He was on the verge of wrapping up a job as a replacement driver for a street race in the Shamorovskaya district on the behest of a fixer named Sparrow when he heard them. Based on the reaction of others they too had heard them.  
Then a lot of things happened at the same time.  
Amidst the calls of ‘Police on the way’ from nearby sentries a number of police vehicles came screaming through the entrance of the parking lot that had served as the events focal point. It was as if a bomb had suddenly gone off amongst the crowd with the lot exploding into a cacophony of noise and movement. People driving off in their rides or simply beginning to run away. But at the same time he couldn’t help but to notice there was a practiced movement to it all. As if everything had been done a million times before. Above them police drones buzzed, no doubt surveying the scene. He jumped inside his “rental” car, a Russian model that was most likely a knock off of the GMC Chameleon. The engine spun up with a low, almost threatening sounding, growl and took off.

He weaved between other escaping cars, aiming for the entrance on the other side. But as he got closer a large police truck rolled in front of it, the sudden entrance crushing the front of a car that was just about to leave. In the rear view mirror he could see another truck rolling in to block the entrance behind them. Which left him and a couple other cars trapped on the parking lot. Around him the police was beginning to close in the noose.  
“Ah hell,” he muttered to himself while searching for an escape route.  
Spotting that the large doors of the adjacent warehouse stood almost wide open he flashed his headlights twice before kicking the car into the reverse. With a fluid and well trained movement he pulled on the handbrake, causing the car to spin around on itself and point itself towards the warehouse doors before accelerating. Behind him the remaining trapped street racers got the hint and followed suit.

Maro’s car came roaring through the entrance on the other side and onto an adjacent parking lot, behind him trailed the other racers. The police were not far behind either based on the flashing lights and sirens coming from inside the warehouse. He took the car back onto the main street and struck out in a random direction. He would have to worry about finding his back to Sparrow’s hotel once he had lost the police. It was either that or head back to Artyem and lose them that way. Unless they rolled in with heavy armor, police didn’t dare setting their foot inside that district.  
The last he saw of the other cars was them flashing their headlights as an apparent thanks to him before they took off into the night. Tail lights disappearing down various streets. Behind him several police cars and motorcycles spilled out of the warehouse and began splitting off to pursue.  
“Great,” he muttered as he realized he wasn’t in the clear yet as two motorcycles suddenly peeled off to chase after him. This was going to be a long night he thought as he began accelerating to try to gain some distance from his pursuers.  
He pulled hard on the handbrake, causing the car to turn tightly down an intersection. Narrowly missing another oncoming car in the process, its automated collision detection system slammed hard on the breaks as the sudden obstruction appeared. Behind him the motorcycle pulled off its own hairpin turn and accelerated to catch up with him.  
“Damn,” he said somewhat impressed as he saw the bike pulling off a nearly perfect hairpin turn, “That driver’s good.”  
He had managed to shake off one of the bikes earlier, its driver forcing to break before almost colliding into the side of another car. But its partner had proved to be far more tenacious and still stuck to his tail despite his best attempts to outmaneuver the driver.

Maro glanced at the map on the HUD, side streets and various alleys shooting past him at high speeds. The distance to either the Hotel or the nearest entry to Artyem decreasing and increasing as he drove through the city district. All the while the constant blinking of the sirens visible in his rear-view mirror. He figured that by now they were frantically trying to zero in additional vehicles to come after him. Or setting up roadblocks up ahead. But the traffic hadn’t thinned out nearly enough to be a sign of that he thought.  
Or at least not yet, but like everything at this point it was just a question of time.  
And time was beginning to become a commodity in short supply for him unless he did something. Not to mention there was the pervasive risk that he might cause an accident of some kind. If that were to happen he might as well drive off the nearest pier and go down with the ship so to speak. Because then the police would most likely just force him off the road or worse.

After narrowly avoiding colliding with a delivery lorry he spotted an opportunity in the form of a multi-storey parking garage that swooshed past him on one side. He slammed down on the car breaks, the tires screeching and leaving long black marks on the asphalt as he turned the car around. The sudden turn catching the driver of the police motorcycle unaware as it shot past him down the street. He figured it wasn’t going to be long until the driver had recovered and headed back for him. He was already hearing the sirens approaching again. He turned sharply and drove into the garage, feeling the car’s suspension absorb the impact of his entrance on the cement floor. Behind him the motorcycle came into view again and he stepped on the gas as the car zoomed through the open lanes and up the garage. Forcing him to use every ounce of his driving skill not to slam head first into a pillar or a parked car.

The car slid sideways for a good couple of meters, leaving black tire marks in its wake, as it came to a dead stop. He had reached the roof of the garage and had now run out of road to drive on. The place was bathed in a pale blue light from large LED lights mounted on high poles around the central access ramp. The lights casting long dark shadows around him. Around him the night time cityscape of Vladivostok seemed to stretch into the darkened horizon around him. Maro would’ve been impressed if he was paying attention but instead he couldn’t help but to curse his own foolishness under his breath. He shut off the engine, undid his seatbelt and stepped out of his car. Peering over the edge, he saw the nearest roof a good five or so meters below him. Jumping off and running away was out of the question he reckoned. So was hiding he surmised after a quick look around, the lot was empty of cars anyway. He could see the door that led to the main staircase, but he figured his chances of getting there would be very slim. Or getting the door open for that part.  
So instead he leaned against the car, folding his arms over his chest, and waited.

He reflexively blinked and shielded his eyes as he and the car were bathed in the headlights of the motorcycle as it came roaring up the ramp. The bike came to a skidding halt of its own in front of him. Light bars mounted on the vehicle bathed the surrounding area in contrasting red and blue colours. The bike had barely come to a halt before the driver had pulled their sidearm and pointed it squarely at him. Gesturing downwards with their other hand.  
“Get down on the ground and keep your hands where I can see them!”  
The voice that barked at him was clearly female, even if it was somewhat muffled behind the oxygen mask that was connected to the boxy black helmet that the driver wore.  
He slowly sank down on his knees while keeping his arms raised until he was lying facedown on the cold, and rather dirty, cement floor. He was secretly glad that it hadn’t rained recently.  
As much as he hated to admit it, he had had run ins with the police before. He knew the routine.

He didn’t say anything and simply relaxed his arms as he felt her pull them behind his back.  
“You’re under arrest for participating in an illegal street race, reckless driving and trying to evade an officer of the law,” she began before starting to read off his rights.  
The only sound he made was a slight grunt in discomfort as he felt her put on the restraints a bit too tightly then what was perhaps necessary. He felt her pat him down briefly. She easily pulled him back up on his knees, hinting that she was stronger than she looked. No way of telling if she had any cyberware by the way her uniform looked. He shuffled his legs slightly to make himself as comfortable as possible.

“This is Sergeant Zoya,” she began speaking, obviously through a helmet mounted microphone, “I have apprehended one of the fleeing suspects on top of a garage. Requesting a pickup at my location.”  
She listened intently for a moment.  
“What do you mean the pickup will be delayed?” Her voice carrying a slight twinge of annoyance to it, “What happened to Mila?”  
She listened silently again. Maro figured Mila was the name of her partner that he had managed to shake off earlier during the chase.  
“I see, understood. I’ll wait then. Zoya out.”  
“Well fuck,” he could hear her mutter under her breath.

The sudden lull gave him time to study her a bit closer. She looked to be a head or so taller than him based on his guesstimate. The armored bodysuit she wore clung to every curve of her body, but other than that it gave few hints of what was underneath. Her face was completely concealed by a boxy black helmet, the emblem of the MVD fully visible on either of its flat sides. The same emblem also visible on one of her shoulders. Attached to that was an oxygen mask, looking very much like the kind one would usually see used by fighter pilots.

A sudden light breeze reminded him that Vladivostok, even in the throes of late summer, was still cold at night. The air carried a faint smell of smog and exhaust fumes, most likely carried from other parts of the city, but it at the same time it also smelt crisp. However, the cool night air felt refreshing at the same time and Maro quickly realized how drenched in sweat he actually was. He could feel his dress shirt cling to his back underneath the dark jacket and it stuck to his armpits as well. But above that he could feel his entire body tingling from the adrenaline still coursing through it. The sensation he knew as the driver’s high, but he figured there was a million other ways to describe it. He shifted uncomfortable as he felt some parts of his body react in turn. He looked at Zoya and wondered if she was feeling the rush as well based on how tense she looked as she paced backwards and forward across the floor. He figured that things didn’t go as she had assumed.

Zoya pulled on a latch on the side of her helmet and the oxygen mask dropped away, dangling on one side. Revealing only her mouth and tip of the nose to him. She took a deep breath and exhaled.  
“Much better,” she clearly said to herself, only paying minor attention to him. He figured any sudden movements would’ve lead to him staring down the barrel of her sidearm again so he stayed put. She unplugged a pair of cables that connected the helmet to the bodysuit before pressing on a button somewhere that let the panels covering her face slide open. Before he managed to get a decent look she grabbed hold of the helmet. With the sound of soft leather creaking she pulled the helmet off her head.

Black hair flowed out the helmet as it was removed, it spilled across her shoulders like a shimmering waterfall.  
“Ah nuts, it got undone again,” he could hear her mutter to herself before she just shook her head slightly to straighten her hair out before depositing the helmet on her bike and turning around to face him.  
Zoya looked to be in her mid-to-late twenties with a slightly dark skin complexion. Her face was well rounded with a pair of expressive large, light green eyes and small nose that accentuated her otherwise orkish features. Like all orks the canines in her lower jaw were longer and protruded upwards like a pair of small tusks, the tips reaching to a point just above her upper lip. The tips of her pointed ears were slightly longer than average. Maro wondered how irritating that helmet must be to wear over long periods of time unless it had been customized. She had the faint outlines of a pair of scars on the right side of her face. Both of them bisected her right eyebrow, the longest one tracing a path down to the middle of her cheek.

“Well this is just fucking great,” Zoya muttered to herself annoyed while pulling off her gloves and dumped them unceremoniously next to her helmet.  
“No pickup available for at least an hour because they got themselves scattered all over the district.”  
She proceeded to tie her hair up in a loose ponytail while giving him an annoyed look.  
“And on top of it all Mila got assigned to elsewhere, so now I’m stuck watching your sorry ass by myself for the time being.”  
The woman let out a frustrated sigh and walked past him towards his car to begin searching through it. Based on how she moved he figured she was still in fact feeling the adrenaline from before, her motions were tense. As if he she was holding herself back or something.

“On your feet,” Zoya said once she was done, pulling him up on his feet without much of an issue. He breathed a sigh for relief as his knees had begun to hurt from resting on the hard concrete floor. Pushing him up against the car, she brusquely pulled his legs apart and began to thoroughly patting him down, working her way up his legs. He let out an involuntary sharp gasp as her hands wandered over his groin and groped his somewhat stiff member. In the corner of his eye, Maro swore he could see her smirk briefly before she continued upwards and began searching through his jacket pockets. However as she began working her way over his hips and backside as well as his chest it felt as if her motions got suddenly slower and more thorough than before. Her fingers becoming a bit more exploratory than perhaps searching. He let of an involuntary shudder as he felt the tips of her fingers trace a pattern over his chest as they were ‘searching’. The questioning look he gave her was ignored.

Zoya looked at the contents of his pockets lying on the hood of the car, a commlink, a portable music player and an energy bar. From the quick look inside the car she had only been able to find an empty water bottle. She looked at the items somewhat perplexed and then looked at him.  
“No weapons? You’re out breaking the law, and you’re not packing any heat? This isn’t Tokyo you know,” Her voice carrying a slight admonishment to it.  
“Didn’t think I needed one,” He replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “I heard there’s an agreement about no guns on the premises. Helps people relax and enjoy themselves.”  
She shook her head briefly before looking at him dubiously.  
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re either a patsy or a decoy.”  
“How so?” He replied, sounding faintly amused at her accusation.  
“You just stood there waiting for me to slap the cuffs on you,” Her voice taking on a slightly incredulous tone now, “No struggle or anything.”  
“Didn’t see the point, wouldn’t have gotten far anyway,” he replied with another slight shrug, “Besides, don’t like fighting cops.”  
She folded her hands over chest while looking at him. He figured it was probably to keep her hands in control as the adrenaline probably still ran rampant through her systems. He was still feeling the rush as well. The hard on hadn’t gone away yet, much to his chagrin, and his entire body felt tense. The look on her face told him she wasn’t particularly convinced by what he had just told her.  
“Oh, why’s that?”  
“Simple, it’s a matter of escalation. Cops are supposed to play nice and treat people a measure of respect, correct?”  
She nodded in reply, the look on her face telling him to continue.  
“So if I then decide to fight back then that courtesy is replaced with equal or greater force. In that case I’d rather just stay on their good side.”  
“Yet you didn’t turn yourself when we showed up and lead a couple of other cars out from the cordon and back onto the street. Wouldn’t that make this notion of yours kinda hypocritical?”  
“I said fight, however I never said anything about not trying to evade them,” he gave her a brief smile. She made an exasperated face in return.  
“Fine, you got me there.”

Zoya picked up his commlink from on top of the hood and pressed a button on the side to bring up the display for his AR ID. She was bathed in a light blue light as she studied the ID photo and him.  
“So does Mr. “Does not fight the police” have a name other than Nikolai Kerensky?”  
“Maro.”  
“Is that short for something?”  
“Shmarovoz,” he replied with another shrug, “Didn’t come up with it myself I would like to add.”  
His reply made her laugh briefly before she went back to examining the ID photo. She looked once or twice back at him and the ID photo, her green eyes studying him with thinly veiled interest. Her eyes flicking back and forth between him and the picture as if she was making sure the real thing was correct. Or that’s what it looked to him at least, the fake ID had already let him pass through most of the city uncontested several times before so it should stand up to some scrutiny. She thoughtfully nibbled on her lower lip at the same time. Without another word Zoya turned off the display, then she put the commlink back down with the rest of his pocket belongings.

With the usual police routine now having run its course it wasn’t long before Zoya was repeatedly glancing down at a display mounted at her wrist and exhaling sharper than she might have intended. Frustration creeping back on her face again. Her body language looked jittery and tense once more as she bounced on her heels for a couple of minutes. Then she walked over to her bike and began fussing over it. Her actions lacking any real goal and she was obviously trying to keep herself busy with something.  
Guess she wasn’t the waiting type, he thought to himself wryly.  
As she did, he couldn’t help but to admire the firm posterior she pointed towards him. It accentuated her toned muscular legs rather well he thought. The pair of wide straps going across her rear to an equipment belt around her waist helped quite that as well. He had seen how the same straps also managed to frame her mound on the front. He idly wondered if the person designing that suit had decided on that intentionally or not. But thoughts like those weren’t really helping he thought to himself chastising. Not to mention there was a slowly rising problem elsewhere. Maro couldn’t help but to wonder if her actions were intentional or not. Regardless he wished for the opportunity to adjust his increasingly uncomfortable pants. He knew a way how but at the same time he figured she wouldn’t be too appreciative if his hands were suddenly in front of instead of behind his back. So instead he resorted to an awkward shuffle on the spot for a moment while trying to use his restrained hands at the same time as she was looking away. Hoping that none of her, most likely present, drones were keeping an eye on him. He wasn’t too sure what his shadowrunner career would end up being if something like that came out to the public.

“Fuck, why can’t they show up already,” he heard her mutter.  
She briefly looked his direction to make sure he hadn’t decided to run away or anything. She looked visibly disappointed when she saw he was still leaning up against the car. Her stare lingered on him for a while and Zoya chewed her lower lip again if contemplating something. But whatever it was it looked like she dropped it as she let out another low growl in frustration.  
“Something on your mind?” he couldn’t help but to ask, causing her to turn around and giving him a quick and confused look before replying somewhat testily.  
“Other than being stuck on a garage roof and feeling somewhat high strung? No thank you I’m fine.”  
“Ah, the driver’s high,” he replied with a knowing nod, “Know the feeling.”  
“Yeah considering the unlicensed weapon you’re currently packing in your pants I figured you might,” she replied with a chuckle.  
“So do you think I need to hand it over for inspection then?” he couldn’t help but to shoot back at her. The instance the words had left his mouth he regretted what he had said.

The look Zoya gave him in reply made him curse himself and his attempt at quick wit under his breath. It was one of those looks that made him realize that he might just have overstepped his boundaries a little bit too much. He cursed the fact that his usual restraint tended to slip when the adrenaline was running through him. Most of the time it just meant he started cursing profusely but this time he apparently had other things on his mind. Then again from what he had seen of her so far, she looked very striking. But right now he hoped that she wouldn’t strike him.  
She approached him slowly but steadily, her expressive green eyes carrying a certain gleam to them. Due to her relative height to him, he had to tilt his back slightly in order to be able to look her in the eyes the closer she approached. He was by now expecting the worst and began reading a quick apology before the first swing came.

But any possible apology he was about to say turned into a sharp gasp as a hand grabbed hold of his crotch and gave it a generous squeeze at the same time. A predatory smile crept onto her lips as she pressed herself up against him. A smell of well-oiled leathers, engines and of sweat filled his nostrils with every breath.  
“Now seeing as we’re both obviously still a bit high strung and I’m in no real mood waiting for those chucklefucks to come and pick you up, I have a proposition for you.” she began, a lusty undercurrent beginning to come through her voice.  
“I’m listening,” he replied as professionally as he could muster while steadily looking her in the eyes.  
Maro’s mouth felt like it was as dry as sawdust. The absurdity of the whole situation passed him by briefly, but the thought did not linger for very long. He had seen far weirder things recently as a shadowrunner to be really weirded out by a police officer feeling him up on a garage roof while he was in handcuffs. Granted, the last time he had been in handcuffs had been on Moira’s bed during one of her irregular summons for when she needed to take the edge off. That that had been a rather interesting experience.  
“If you hand that unlicensed weapon of yours over to me for a personal inspection.” Zoya gave him a mischievous smile for emphasis, “And pass my very stringent requirements, I can let you go on good behaviour.”  
“And what if I don’t pass?” He asked while at the same time trying sound as relaxed as possible. Which was increasingly hard to do when there was an almost two meter tall ork pressed up against him and with his nutsack in an iron grasp. Not too surprisingly his member responded accordingly and simply seemed to grow harder. Something she undoubtedly noticed based on how the lips seemed to curl upwards before she spoke.  
“Then I hope you’ll find lockup very accommodating for the length of your stay.”  
“Ah,” he said humorously, “I can’t really say no to an offer like that. Can I now?”

Giving him a very satisfied smile Zoya took a step back and activated a quick release buckle on her chest. With a quick shrug the attached shoulder guards and vambraces fell to the ground with a clatter of metal and ceramics. With a slight shake of her hips the equipment belt clattered to the ground in quick succession. In the back of his mind, he knew going for the gun would’ve been a pointless exercise. Her service weapon would’ve been tagged to her. But he pushed those thoughts aside, not really wanting to ruin what was going on right now.

Zoya pulled on a hidden zipper at the front and her bodysuit slowly opened to reveal what lay underneath. First the tops of her breasts emerged, showing off cleavage that got deeper and deeper with time. Her breasts appeared tantalizingly slowly as the zipper continued downwards. The sides of the suit parted like the red sea as her, to his surprise, bare breasts spilled into the open. They were slightly larger than grapefruits and crowned with an areola just bigger than his thumb. A pair of dark stubby nipples as the very tip of her fleshy hills. In the frigid night air, they instantly hardened into a pair of rock hard buds. He felt his member twitch slightly in response and there was an appreciative smile on Zoya’s lips. The ork obviously liking the rapt attention she was getting from him. The zipper continued steadily downwards, showing off her toned stomach, abdominal muscles rippling underneath her skin with each heavy breath she took. Her belly button looking like a small dimple on her flat stomach. There was by now a noticeable flush to her body, her skin turning a shade darker on her face and chest as her arousal increased. Both of Maro’s shirts clung to his body from sweating and his body felt like as if it was on fire. He swallowed in rapid succession in a vain attempt to moisturise his parched mouth as Zoya continued to unzip herself.

A tuft of dark pubic hair that had been trimmed into a tidy landing strip emerged as the zipper travelled over her mound. It’s revealed make him realize that she wasn’t actually wearing any underwear underneath her bodysuit. The zippers journey ended somewhere between her legs where it seemingly disappeared again and left her standing fully exposed in front of him. Her body was lean and fit but that didn’t stop him from noticing a distinctive curve to her hip, making her body look slightly pear shaped. Zoya rested her hands on her hips and regarded him through slightly hooded eyelids for a moment.  
“Before we can begin,” she said with a grin, “I’m going to need you to leave a statement.”  
The questioning look he gave her was ignored as she came closer and leaned against the car. Gesturing for him to stand in front of her she placed one of her hands on his shoulder and pushed him down on his knees.

As Maro got down on his knees he couldn’t help but to notice that her body was not without its marks, as he spotted faint outlines of scars on her abdomen. He grunted slightly in discomfort as his sore knees made contact with the concrete floor again and he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. His eyes fell upon her exposed sex that practically dominated his entire field of vision. There was a heavy scent of arousal and sweat coming from her, and in the pale light her blood engorged labia glistened from her juices. He felt one of her hands on the back of his head pressing him forwards, as if emphasising what he should do. He rolled his shoulders slightly to loosen them up and flexed his jaw.

He began by scraping his teeth alongside the inside of her muscular thighs, tasting the salty sweat on her skin and causing her to shudder in response. She spread her legs a little, giving his eager explorations better access to the few exposed areas of skin. His mouth travelled up her mons and over her stomach. Her soft pubic hair tickled his nostrils as his path took him downwards again as his teeth scraped against exposed skin, leaving slowly fading marks in his wake. She pulled his head away from her crotch and gave him a questioning look. But with he cheeks obviously flushed with arousal it was clear that she did not dislike what he was doing.  
“I’m simply preparing my statement,” he smoothly replied.  
Zoya gave him a playful look and loosened her grip on his hair, which to him seemed like the signal to continue. He hid his faint grin from her he continued to shower her groin with light bites and nibbles. Figuring that the ork was not much for kissing when it came to her foreplay. But at the same time he never went near her lower lips with other than brushing it by with his mouth or a faint trailing with his tongue. Her breathing was quickly becoming rapid and shallow as his attempt at foreplay was obviously getting to her. The insides of her exposed thighs were by now covered with bite marks.

As his dry lips suddenly pressed up against her bare vulva, the skin there a shade darker due to arousal, he could feel her body tense up as she let out a restrained grunt. As the tip of his tongue made contact with her lower lips he could feel a shudder running through her body. She tasted bitter with a somewhat salty aftertaste. He began slowly, tongue flicking gently back and forth across her engorged labia. Every time his teeth gently rasped over them he could hear her inhale sharply and swear slightly under her breath. He found her engorged clit and made it emerge from underneath its hood with a few inquisitive licks and prods with his tongue. Zoya’s let out a high-pitched gasp as he played with it briefly before turning his attention elsewhere. He internally cursed his lack of available hands as his tongue couldn’t slip between her lower lips to probe her inner canals without any assistance. Instead, he resorted to writing random words and letters across her labia instead with the tip. Which had the noticeable effect of making her gasp and moan with the occasional expletive in between.

Pausing halfway through writing his memoirs with his tongue he took a few deep breaths and tried to work some resemblance of life into his aching jaw. When he felt one of her hands grab hold of his hair he figured that his pause might not have been fully appreciated. She pushed his face back onto her crotch again and he was forced to resume his work. First at a slower pace to give his jaw and tongue a break. But when he then felt her tug his hair sharply, making him to wince in pain, he figured she must be getting close and didn’t want to draw it out. She leaned back against the car as she groaned intensely, causing her breasts to stand out from her frame as she arched her back slightly. It also had the the effect of pushing her crotch harder against his face. He suppressed a sneeze as her pubic hair tickled his nostrils while his tongue spelled out his life’s history on her slit. His knees were aching and he was pretty sure he was about to lose his fingers from lack of circulation due to his restraints. He felt one of his vertebrae pop as he flexed his neck and decided it was high time to go in for the kill.

The renewed assault upon her labia and clit caused Zoya to let out a long string of expletives, the sound muffled for him due to the fact that her thighs were now clamped around his head. Presumably to keep him in place or it was just a reflex. At the same time he could feel her legs resting against his shoulders for support. He continued lapping away like a kitten at a saucer of milk, pushing the aching protests from his lower jaw and tongue to the side. He didn’t want to think how he felt tomorrow. Meanwhile all Zoya could do was grunt and moan as his mouth played merry hell across her sex. With her legs holding him in place, her hands were against the car for stability as her legs were starting to get unsteady beneath her. He wished he hadn’t finished that bottle of water earlier. Because at that point he was beginning to feel he could have needed some as his tongue was starting to feel like cotton wool.

The first sign of Zoya’s climax was her body suddenly tensing up, and she let out a long string of curses that quickly turned into a guttural groan. He could feel the muscles in her thighs becoming tense as her legs seemed to almost coil around his torso. The heels of one of her boot-clad feet pressing painfully into his back. Meanwhile her other foot seemed to make a good attempt at shattering the concrete underneath considering how much it seemed to push against it. He figured that her toes were curling something fierce based on how her boots seemed to bubble up and shift. It was a reaction he almost missed seeing with Moira. At the same time he was glad her legs also didn’t twitch as much as Zoya’s or else he might have run into the risk of serious injury. Her back rose in a near perfect arch, breasts jutting out proudly. He could hear a slight metallic thunk as the back of her head hit the roof of the car as she threw her head back. There was almost the slight expectation from him that she was on the verge of tipping the car over somehow as she pushed up against it as a myriad of guttural noises flowed out from her mouth. He could feel the muscles in her vagina contract rhythmically, her labia clenching and unclenching against his lips, smearing more juices on his face. He was beginning to find it hard to breathe with his face pushed up against her crotch and with her thighs holding him into place. Her pubic hair tickling his nostrils every time he inhaled through them. In the corner of his eye over one of her thighs, he could see the side of the car lifting very slightly as Zoya continued to press her weight against it while she rode through the climax.

He found himself pitching backwards as her legs gave out underneath and the car dropped back onto its wheels, rocking from side to side for a moment, while she slid down onto the floor. There was a somewhat glassed over but at the same time very pleased look on her face. Meanwhile, Maro took several deep breaths of the crisp night air to refill his lungs. His mouth and chin was glistening with her juices and he tried to wipe it off on his shoulder. But with his arms firmly tied behind his back and restricting his shoulders there wasn’t much he could do. Zoya got up, somewhat unsteady, on her feet again. Walking up to his prone form she hauled him up on his feet again without a word. She dragged him back towards the car and made him stand up against it. Crouching down in front of him, she quickly set to the task of unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. Not bothering to pull them down his legs she fished out his half limp member from the confines of his underwear. She gave it a brief but critical examination.  
“Hm, not bad,” she said with a grin while looking up at him, “Now let’s see how this thing is fully loaded.”  
Zoya wrapped her hand around his limp shaft, her fingers feeling surprisingly soft and she began giving him an uneven handjob. Her hand initially lacking any rhythm to its movements as it pulled and tugged at his member in an effort to make it rise to the occasion again. After a while she managed to settle herself into some semblance of it, and he could feel himself growing harder under her rough ministrations. The feeling of her hot breath washing against his sensitive tip made him shudder involuntarily. His reaction was something which she undoubtedly noticed as she then followed that up with dragging her tongue up the length of his rapidly stiffening shaft. The action catching him off guard slightly. The tip of her tongue danced over the head for a moment. He was beginning to wonder if she was feeling vindictive when he then felt her teeth gently rasp over it as well, a gasp escaping his lips. When she surprised him by slipping the shaft between her lips and into her hot wet mouth it was his turn to swear underneath his breath. She began to bob up and down with a surprising degree grace, leaving behind a sheen of saliva on his shaft in the process. He could feel the sides of her small tusks scraping against the sides of his member. The sensation adding an extra thrill to it.

After pulling away she dragged her hand over the saliva drenched shaft, smearing the sticky fluid along its entire length. At full mast his member was of average length but somewhat thinner and it had a lazy upwards curve to it.  
“Not bad at all,” she grinned up at him while continuing to stroke him, “Let’s see how well you can use this sharpshooter of yours. Sit,” It was more an order than a suggestion, the tone in her voice brokering no arguments. Maro slowly lowered himself down onto the concrete, thankful he didn’t have to sit on his knees once again. The floor felt cold against his buttcheeks, and once again he made himself as comfortable as he could, his slick member sticking out from the front of his boxers like a wet fleshy flagpole. Gravity making it tip towards him slightly. Zoya placed her feet on either side of him and slowly lowered herself down while facing him. Due to the noticeable difference in height between the two she had to lower herself down on her knees to be able to mount him properly. With one hand holding onto the base of his member, she guided it towards her opening. While holding onto his shoulder for support with her other. A collective shudder ran through them both as she rubbed the head against her lower lips to smear some of her juices onto it for extra lubrication. The crown poked and prodded at her opening and he gritted his teeth and hissed as the sensation against the crown sent lightning bolts up his spine.

They both groaned as she slowly sank down onto his lap, the stiff member slipping inside her lubricated velvet canal without any resistance. Zoya’s bare pelvis pressed up against his and she let out an undignified yelp as the pants’ cold metallic zipper made contact with her hot flesh. Resting against him for a moment, she let herself get used to him inside of her, body subtly trembling while she breathed heavily. Zoya’s initial movements were slow and steady, her rising up halfway up his shaft before dropping down again. Each drop downwards accentuated by a slight grunt or gasp. With his hands still behind his back all he could do was to lean back against the car and gasp as her inner walls squeezed his shaft while she moved. Flexing his fingers in an effort to keep up circulation in the rapidly cooling digits. He tried bending towards her in attempt to kiss her breasts but she simply pushed him back against the car with a coy look on her face. He just looked at her slightly disappointed in return.

The rhythm of her movements quickly settled itself as an almost unrelenting pounding, the ork using her muscle mass in an attempt to pound him into submission. Maro wondered idly if he was going to wake up the next morning with his pelvis covered with bruises or not. Or if he was even going to be able to walk. But the train of thought was violently derailed by her kegel muscles squeezing down on his member. Zoya’s breathing was beginning to turn rapid and shallow again as she furiously bounced on his lap. Her hands now toying with her chest, almost as if to spite him Maro thought wryly, her fingers tweaking the hard nubs of her nipples. Emitting a chorus of high pitched squeaks and moans at the same time. Her pelvis ground itself into his, and he could feel a damp spot developing on his underwear from her leaking juices and the sweat that coated her bare skin. Making the dark skin glisten in the pale light. Maro wanted nothing but to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt slightly as he was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm and sweaty. Clothed sex was not something he had practiced with any regularity, so that meant that the whole thing admittedly felt very strange. His undershirt was practically glued to him and by now his dress shirt was drenched as well. Zoya didn’t seem to mind his hips pushing back in response to her gyrations; it almost seemed to encourage her to drive herself harder down onto his. Almost as if she wanted to subjugate his upstartedness. Unlike Moira she seemed to enjoy this sense of insubordination to her position of power over him. The side of her mouth formed into a grin while an orchestra of various noises flowed out from it in rapid succession like machine gun fire. The occasional low grunt and gasp coming from him sounding like exploding grenades. Their chorus of noises mixed with the noise of ruffling and creaking clothes as well as the sound of their pelvises colliding with each other.

Zoya suddenly pulled off him, leaving him shuddering as a sudden light breeze whisked over his exposed member. The glistening pink flagpole seemingly throbbing in tune with his heartbeat. The ork smoothly rose back up onto her feet again and took a step forward towards him, her feet splayed on either side. Her glistening wet crotch hovering in front of his face once more. Without a word she grabbed hold of the back of his head and pushed it up against it. Guess she considered his current performance somewhat lacklustre he figured as his nostrils were filled with her scent again, not to mention her pubic hair. She leaned against the car for support, and he could hear her gasp as her nipples came into contact with the cold hood, a shudder coursing through her a the same time. She must’ve risen up on her arms directly afterwards as he felt her move afterwards. He immediately got to work, his tongue beginning to write out random letters and words across her sex between making various probes between her slightly separated lips. The effect seemed almost instantaneous as he could hear a chorus of grunts and moans coming from above.  
His tongue got him in this situation it might as well get him out of it he thought to himself as he pulled off a flourish across her clit that made her gasp.

As his tongue wrote the next novel of the century, he began to shift around while sitting between her legs. Which was easier said than done as he had to keep her slightly distracted at the same time. He bent his legs as close he could towards his body, ignoring the slight feelings of discomfort as his member was pressed up against his stomach at an odd angle. Maro bent himself backwards to raise his rear up from the floor. With some effort he managed to thread his legs through the hole between his restrained arms. The motion causing his hands to be in front of him instead of behind. He quietly thanked the Vladivostok police for having handcuffs with spacing and gave his hands a quick look to make sure they hadn’t atrophied or anything.

Maro capitalized on the sudden freedom and gave her labia a gentle tug with his teeth as a finisher. Causing the ork to moan in response. He slithered out from between her legs and got up on his feet. Even with her bodysuit partially unzipped the suit still clung tightly to her firm and muscular behind as she was bent over against the car. He could see her breasts dangling freely underneath her, moving slightly with each breath she took. Moving quickly he grabbed hold of his turgid member with one hand and guided it towards her slit, rubbing the tip against it for some extra lubrication again. Zoya looked over her shoulder, looking surprised to see him standing behind her all of a sudden.  
“Wait? How did yo-oooooooh,” her comment turned into a long moan as he pushed himself inside her, his pelvis pushing up against hers in one swift motion. He grabbed hold of her midriff as best as he could with his restrained hands and began thrusting.

He quickly settled into a fast and furious pace, wanting to make up for his previous inaction, Zoya rocking forwards and backwards while leaning against the car, her hands resting on the the hood for stability. However, he figured it was far more likely for her to push the car than for him to actually be able to move her. Underneath her breasts bounced wildly around from each thrust and the air was filled with the sound of bodies impacting against each other and their renewed grunts and moans. Zoya surprised him slightly by giving him an appreciative look over her shoulder while he thrusted into her. She had probably waited for this to happen, he thought before lowering his hands down to the swell of her hips for better support. His thrusting increasing in ferocity. Pelvises repeatedly slamming against each other in rapid succession, causing her entire body shudder. Zoya continued to moan and grunt as he pushed himself in and out of her. At the same time Maro was starting to feel a building tension in his groin that told him he was getting close to climaxing. And figuring by the sounds that she was currently making it was clear as day that she was getting close to her second orgasm of the night. Pushing the increasing weariness he felt aside he renewed his assault on her, his fingers dragging over her clothed back and occasionally managing to cop a feel on her jiggling breasts. Even if the angle was too awkward for him due to their relative difference in height to do anything other than giving one of them a rough squeeze. A gesture that she seemed to appreciate regardless, based on the loud moans she made in response.

When he suddenly pulled out of her, she let out a soft whimper and looked over her shoulder at him with a slightly glassy but confused look at the same time. As if wondering why he stopped.  
“Turn around and get up on the car,” he simply told her with a gesture.  
She complied, the car sinking down slightly as the suspension compensated for the ork sitting down on the hood. Leaning back slightly to rest on her elbows, she gave him a toothy grin as she spread her legs widely to the side. Her fully exposed vulva was puffy and red from arousal and their previous fucking and her entire body was now covered with the same blush. Maro figured he probably looked slightly like a tomato himself by now as he could feel how heated his cheeks and entire body felt. He closed the distance in two short steps, his slick member in his hands as he aimed for her opening and pushed inside. Both of them letting out a groan in unison as contact and penetration was made. Without pausing he began thrusting with his hips, Zoya’s moving and gyrated her own in response. Their movements causing the car to rock and sway beneath them. The racing tuned suspension easily handling the pair of frantic lovers on top of it. The parts of her body not concealed underneath the suit were by now covered in a sheen of sweat, this despite the ever present nightly chill of Vladivostok. It made the skin glisten in the pale light from the garage’s lamps. Maro could feel how damp the back of his head was, beads of sweat running down his neck. The pressure in his groin continued to build as he continued to thrust. Zoya’s head was now resting against the hood as she let out a continual string of grunts, sighs and screams with the occasional expletive thrown into the mix. In the process urging him to go faster and harder and he tried to oblige best to his abilities even if he did feel he was getting close to his limits.

With her hands over her head for support, Zoya’s back was arched upwards. Seizing the chance he leaned over her and grabbed hold of her bouncing breasts in his hands. Her rock hard nipples boring into his palms. Groping and kneading the fleshy mounds as best to the best of current constrained ability. Zoya let out a hoarse scream as he tweaked her nipples between his fingertips. Making him wonder if someone had heard that or not. But that line of thought fell to the wayside as he gave them another tweak which made her swear and moan at the same time. In response she seemed to arch her back even further, trying to push her teats into his fondling hands. Something which he eagerly obliged and gave them another rough squeeze with his rough hands, leaving dirty imprints on her sweaty skin.

One of her hands went down to between her legs, her fingers playing with her clit for a moment. Maro pulled out and began rubbing the tip against her clit in the same pattern before he penetrated her again. Zoya let out a string of gasps and curses and her body seemed to twitch slightly, her heels thumping against the side of the car. With the way she was breathing it sounded as if she was running a marathon, her chest heaving as she gulped for air. Her entire body trembling slightly. Maro figured she was getting close and by now the tension between his legs was getting close to the breaking point. He gritted his teeth and mentally held himself back, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it for very long at his current overexerted state. He raked her stomach and abdomen with his fingernails, leaving dark streaks behind as they travelled down towards her crotch again. Fingers beginning to tweak and play with her clit as his hips continued to thrust before he decided to go in for the killing blow. They wandered up towards her breasts again. Grabbing hold of the jiggling mounds of flesh in his palms he tweaked both her nipples sharply between his fingers.

The effect was almost instantaneous as Zoya’s mouth formed into an O as her eyes shot open, a look of befuddlement or surprise coming onto her face as she climaxed. A long string of noises flowed from her mouth. Moans, gasps and shrieks among others, all of that interlaced with several strings of expletives. Before long she was repeating them like a mantra. Her back arched upwards in what could almost be described as a perfect curve, her breasts pulled towards her face as he still holding onto her nipples. He let go and watched as they slumped down onto her chest like a pair of large bags of wet sand. One of her feet thumped repeatedly into one of the tires while the other seemed to have twisted itself around one of his legs at some point. Currently applying almost painful level of pressure with the heel as her thighs reflexively clamped around his midriff. Her hands were balled up into tight fists over her head and he was surprised they weren’t pouding on the hood at this point. Beneath her the car bounced and swayed on its suspension as she writhed and twitched in the throes of her climax. He could feel the muscles in her vagina contract and flex around his shaft, as if they tried to goad the contents of his nuts. His hip movements had slowed to a lazy back and forth just to entice her and to protract her climax. All the while he was trying to fight against his own onrushing climax, his toes slowly beginning to curl inside his shoes as the coiled up tightness in his scrotum threatened to come undone.

With a grunt he pulled out from between her legs as his mental dam broke and he could feel the onset of his own climax rushing in. His testicles pulled tightly towards his crotch and he could feel the member throb in his hand as he aimed it towards her. The first shot flew far and landed just below her breasts, Maro hissed slightly as his eyes closed. He could only imagine what kind of horrible grimace Zoya might see on his face if she had cared to look at him at that moment. His second shot left white streaks across her stomach, he leaned against her and the car for support as he felt his legs beginning to give out underneath him. The third and final shot coloured her pubic hair with splatters of white and he slumped down on the ground. His member dribbling seminal fluids down its length. He was feeling somewhat light headed as his entire body tingled with post orgasmic bliss. Once again he began wishing he had a bottle of water or something to drink at hand. His mouth feeling almost painfully parched and he tried to swallow to give it back at least a modicum of moisture. Meanwhile Zoya simply laid splayed out on top of the hood, panting heavily and her limbs slack as she was slowly but steadily coming down from her own climax. A moment of silence passed between the two as they tried collecting themselves. The only noises present were their heavy breathing and the background noises from the city that surrounded them.

Maro half-stumbled over to the car, his member currently a bit too hard to stuff back into his underwear, and managed to find a package of tissues in the glove compartment. He threw them towards Zoya who gave him an appreciative nod and began wiping herself off as he began the slightly sensitive task of redressing herself. The two cleaned themselves off as best as they could in silence. Figuring that there wasn’t much to say. Zoya zipped herself up again and attaching her equipment belt back on alongside her vambraces and shoulder guards.  
“So am I free to go now?” He suddenly asked, looking expectantly at her.  
“Yeah, I would say you passed the inspection with flying colours,” She replied with a pleased smile on her face. Any and all hints of frustration gone from her body language and voice.  
“Oh good. Guess I won't need these anymore then.”  
With that the handcuffs fell to the floor with a metallic clatter. Zoya gawked at him in surprise.  
“Wait, you mean you could’ve gotten out of them whenever you wanted?”  
He answered with a non-committal shrug, rubbing some life back into his sore wrists.  
“Yeah, but I thought you were enjoying yourself too much to spoil it.”  
Zoya couldn’t help but to chuckle and shook her head in disbelief. He bent down, picking up the handcuffs and tossing them to her.  
“Fucking Runners, I should’ve known.” Her muttered comment brought an amused but brief smile to his face. She gathered up her hair again, the previous knot having come undone during their lovemaking. She put the helmet back down on her head. She looked in his direction, the oxygen mask dangling by the side and gave him a sly grin.  
“Hopefully I won’t be running into you again too soon Mr Maro.”  
He reciprocated with his own smile.  
“I can’t make any promises Sergeant Zoya.”  
She clipped her mask back on without another word and revved up her bike, the thing coming to life almost instantly. Before he knew it he was watching the bikes taillights zoom down the garage ramp. Shortly thereafter he heard her motorcycle roar off into the night. He picked up his discarded possession from the floor and looked at the clock on the commlink display slightly concerned.  
“Hm, I hope Sparrow doesn’t mind that I’m running late.”


End file.
